


Could Be Good

by M J Holyoke (wholeyolk)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Wings, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teratophilia Trade 2020, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholeyolk/pseuds/M%20J%20Holyoke
Summary: “Why, Qephetzial? Why are you doing this? You could have been good!”His twin brother’s voice is sad, not angry. Qaphsiel is still too virtuous to succumb to sinful anger. And besides, he knows him too well.
Relationships: Angel/Fallen Angel Twin Brother, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	Could Be Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaDeeDa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDeeDa/gifts).



“Why, Qephetzial? Why are you doing this? You could have been good!”

His twin brother’s voice is sad, not angry. Qaphsiel is still too virtuous to succumb to sinful anger. And besides, he knows him too well.

Qephetzial slips a hand between them. Qaphsiel is hard, never mind his protests. He flicks at the foreskin with the tip of one finger and enjoys the sound of Qaphsiel’s sharply indrawn breath, the rustle of Qaphsiel’s fluttering gold-tipped wings, the throb of Qaphsiel’s traitorous flesh as the foreskin pulls back from the glans completely and a flush of wetness blooms between their identical bellies.

“But Qaphsiel,” Qephetzial says softly, seductively, “why would I want to be good when being bad means I can do things like _this_?”

They are mirror images of one another, and Qephetzial knows Qaphsiel as well as he knows himself. His thigh between Qaphsiel’s legs, parting for him like Moses parted the sea, and his cock at Qaphsiel’s entrance—

Qaphsiel comes as soon as he has seated himself, face contorted, wings outspread. Agony or ecstasy, it doesn’t really matter. It could be both. Qephetzial commences thrusting into his twin brother’s tight, wet heat. They fit together like two halves of a whole. Just the thought of that is enough to make Qephetzial come, too.

The orgasm doesn’t stop him. He takes to the air, higher than any bird. Qaphsiel is heavy in his arms and still impaled upon his cock. This is the mating flight of the Fallen. None of the Lord’s angels would dare. Yet even though Qaphsiel does not consent, he does not protest either.

Qephetzial keens, the slide of his brother’s flesh on his own too intoxicating to be borne. He cannot sustain both the pumping of his wings and the pumping of his loins. One of the two must needs be sacrificed. And so, Qephetzial tucks in his wings . . .

. . . and they fall.

“B-brother . . . !” Qaphsiel wails. His hips crash against Qephetzial’s, seeking deeper and ever deeper joining. He could arrest their fall if he wished, but he doesn’t: he’s too busy coming a second time.

And a third.

Mmm yes, this could be good.


End file.
